3 The French lost the colony of Saint-Domingue, now Haiti, to Toussiant Louverture's insurrection in 1791. Bonaparte sent his brother-in-law General Leclerc to retake the island in 1802; Leclerc captured Louverture, who died in France, but Haitians, under the leadership of Dessalines, drove the French troops off the island and declared independence in 1804.
Chapter Sixteen: One O'Clock in the Morning
"That's why your letters were so cold!" Mathilde exclaimed, sounding more irrational than tender, but suddenly, devastatingly, changing to a pronoun implying familiarity, even intimacy. Julien was no longer listening closely. Once he had heard her use conclusively intimate language, he lost his head—or, at least, he lost all his suspicions. He found the courage to embrace this wonderfully beautiful girl, for whom he felt immense respect. She only partly pushed him away. He fell back on his memory, as he had done once before, in Besançon, with Amanda, and recited some of the loveliest phrases of La Nouvelle Héloïse.4 "You have a man's heart," she said endearingly, without really listening to his words. "I wanted to test your courage; I admit it. Your early suspicions and your determination show me that you're even braver than I could have believed." Mathilde was consciously trying to keep using intimate language; she was obviously paying more attention to this new and unfamiliar way of speech than to what she was actually saying. Intimate words, devoid of any tenderness, did not please him: he was stunned by the complete absence, in his heart, of any sign of happiness. At last, trying to feel it, he fell back on rationality. He could see that this exceedingly proud young girl thought very well of him, and he knew she never praised anyone or anything unreservedly. This argument satisfied his self- esteem. It was not, indeed, that same intensity of sensual pleasure he had experienced, several times, with Madame de Rênal. He felt no tenderness whatever: this was the vigorous happiness of ambition, for Julien was ambitious, above all else. Once again, he talked about the people he had suspected, and the precautions he had devised. As he spoke, he thought how best to take advantage of his triumph. Still deeply embarrassed, and apparently staggered by what she had done, Mathilde seemed delighted to have found a topic for conversation. They discussed how they might be able to meet again. Julien was thoroughly enjoying the wit and courage he had proved, once more, as they were talking. They were dealing with extremely clear-sighted people; little Tanbeau was certainly a spy; but he and Mathilde were not exactly fools, either. What would be easier than to meet in the library, the most convenient place of all? "I can appear, without creating any suspicion, in any part of the house," added Julien, "and very nearly in Madame de La Mole's room." Crossing through that room, to get to her daughter's, was completely unavoidable. If Mathilde thought it better that he always arrive by ladder, he would expose himself to that trivial danger, his heart drunk with joy. Listening to him speak, Mathilde was shocked by his sense of triumph. "He's already my master!" she told herself. She felt remorse gripping her; her rational mind was horrified by the remarkable act of madness she'd committed. Had she been able to, she would have annihilated both herself and Julien. When by sheer force of will she could momentarily beat back remorse, shyness and suffering modesty made her wretchedly miserable. She had had no idea of the frightful state in which she would find herself. "But, still, I need to talk to him," she finally told herself. "That's understood: you speak to your lover." And then, to fulfill this obligation, and with a tenderness that was still more in the words she used than in the tone of her voice, she told him several decisions she had made, these last few days.